Flannel Kimonos
by Ms. Donovan and Ms. Midnight
Summary: A slash fic from Gil and Sul's Mikado. PoohBah, KoKo, and PishTush assemble in the courtyard for some cold banter. PishTush meditates on the Lord High Everything and how wonderful the invention of the Flannel Kimono is.


**Ms. Donovan and Ms. Midnight regretfully inform you that we have been in the ice cubes again. As if getting high off of _that_ wasn't enough, we also had our first meeting of the LoBS fangirls. We even watched Charlie and the Chocolate factory with Johnny Depp, thereby meaning that we have had the fangirl equalent of a near-wankoff. We are extremely high and happened to want to write for this pairing.**

**We own this story. We worship Gilbert and Sullivan (most of the time), who own this world and these characters.

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**Flannel kimonos. They are not the most flattering thing to wear, but somehow he pulled it off. Perhaps when you are Lord High…Everything, you are granted certain allowances and one of them is to look…_flattering_ no matter what you wear.

But one had to admit, the flannel kimono looked warm. And rather inviting to inappropriate fantasies. But Pish-Tush was of course not thinking of such things in the presence of the Lord High Everything, Pooh-Bah. He was thinking about his…uhm…his fan, which was sticking more than usual. His fan, which was the color of snow, which was the close to the color of the egg-shell white flannel. The flannel that had been imported from Wales, which was a country in Europe. Which was nowhere near the kimono which draped the (rather fetching) figure that he WAS NOT FANTASIZING INAPPROPRIATELY ABOUT. Because, you see, he was thinking about his fan, which was the color of…

Oh, bother. Who was going to hang him for _thinking_ inappropriate thoughts?

"…and in his wisdom, the Mikado," the bows were administered as is appropriate, "has ruled that the penalty for thinking impurely when not in intercourse shall be death," the Lord High Executioner read happily, as he spoke with the Lord High Everything.

Pish-Tush tried to muffle various expletives, and ended up thinking impurely, but mostly about killing the Mikado (O, Mikado! Bow) and rubbing his kimono in the blood to give it a nice rusty brown cast to the print.

"Pish, tosh!"

Pish-Tush's heart leapt for a second, as his beloved had nearly said his name.

"How are they to tell if one is thinking impurely if one is not in one's head?"

Pish-Tush tried not to cry, which was very hard.

Ko-Ko replied to the Lord High Everything. "Would one be telling what's in two's head?"

Pooh-Bah carefully ignored Ko-Ko and took the proclamation from him. "Seeing as one cannot properly find evidence for such a crime, I must say that, as Chief of Police, the law must be null and void." Pooh-Bah tossed the scroll into the nearest fire. Pish-Tush narrowly avoided being brained by a scroll.

Ko-Ko's inquiring eyebrow raised. "Should I be worried? The Lord High Everything, of course, couldn't be abusing his powers in order to further his own agenda, now could he?"

"Speaking as the Secretary of Intelligence, I very much agree. But speaking as the Personal Psychologist to the Secretary of Intelligence, I am obligated to tell you that the Secretary of Intelligence is slightly paranoid, and nothing he says should be taken into account. Speaking as the Archbishop of Tittipoo, I agree that thinking impure thoughts should be abolished, and considering my position, I, of course, do not think impurely. But as the Archbishop I realize that my flock will naturally think impurely, and punishing for a natural act is less than pure in and of itself. And speaking as Secretary of the Eschequer, the amount of money that would be wasted for each of the executions would be exorbant and damaging, and a lower population to tax, the taxes would raise to the point of inciting a revolt. And speaking as the Secretary of the Lord High Executioner, I shall remind you that all of those who think impurely will at some point die without our intervention, leaving funds free to be diverted to more beneficial things such as a vacation for the Lord High Executioner."

Ko-Ko waited for a moment, fearing another half of Pooh-Bah's speech. When none came, he answered, "Oh…Well, thank you for your input. I think."

Pish-Tush smiled, relieved of his previous legal requirements to not think of inappropriate things.

A colds wind blew through the town and Pooh-Bah wrapped his flannel shawl closer around his shoulders. Pish-Tush shivered. He liked looking at the thin shoulders wrapped up tight enough that you could see their shape. It was the closest thing Pish-Tush had come to seeing them without anything wrapped up tight around them.

And those long, deft fingers attached to smooth palms attached to slim wrists, the fingers that now wrapped around the shawl, the fingers that made him wonder what Pooh-Bah could do with those fingers. And the Lord High Everything's long, slender throat which just made Pish-Tush want to jump onto him and—

Pish-Tush stopped his brain before some small child came by and saw what he was thinking, thereby scarring the child for life. He quickly thought of Katisha and all desire quickly fled from his body into a nearby fish, which had no idea why it suddenly had an attachment to a nobleman. This was hardly a major concern in the grand scheme of things, but it is rather ironic that that fish should be Pish-Tush's dinner.

During Pish-Tush's little internal feud, Ko-Ko and Pooh-Bah continued to talk, mostly of titles. Pooh-Bah was winning, as was his habit. In a fit of desperation, Ko-Ko turned to Pish-Tush.

"What titles do you have? I require your services to defeat Pooh-Bah!"

Pish-Tush blinked. "I have no titles to lend you in such a…valiant defense against the Lord High….Everything."

Ko-Ko thought for a second, then said, "I hereby appoint you to the rank of Lord High Researcher."

"Then I will lend you my aid in the form of one paltry title."

"This may prove a problem. Are there any other titles you would like to have?"

Pish-Tush thought for a second. Of course there were. Lord High Owner of Pooh-Bah. Mikado. Lord High Insulter of Fish (it was a limited sport for only the Mikado and his various guests). Lord High Sheller of Onions (another Mikado-and-guest only sport). But he settled for, "Lord High…er, Overseer of…High…Lords." He shrugged. "Sorry."

"Then I appoint you Lord High Overseer of High Lords."

Pooh-Bah was still going on. "Private Secretary, Lord Chamberlin, Archbishop of Tittipoo, Prime Minister of Tittipoo, Solicitor, Counselor of the Mails, Head of the Cultural Committee, Lord High Mayor of Residing and Elect…"

"Hah. I get to oversee both of you and many of you." Pish-Tush said, smiling at the thought of overseeing Pooh-Bah.

Pooh-Bah stopped. His eye twitched. There was a slight _crick_ noise as his brain broke. "Then….I, as Prime Minister of Tittipoo, appoint myself to be Lord High Overseer of the Lord High Overseer of High Lords."

"But I still oversee the Lord High Overseer of the Lord High Overseer of High Lords. It's part of the Lord High part." Pish-Tush grinned inwardly.

Ko-Ko, seeing where this was going, left the courtyard to go arrange lunch.

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After about an hour of the arguing, Pooh-Bah effectively finished by saying, "Then as Prime Minister of Tittipoo, I appoint you Lord High Purchaser of my Dinner Tonight." 

"Then I oversee myself as well as you—What?"

"You heard me. I like tempura." Pooh-Bah shot off a quick –sultry? Pish-Tush thought-smile, turned, and left the courtyard to go get ready.

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**Note: The authoresses of this did not fall asleep during Japanese History lectures. A history buff would note that the Mikado is set (assumedly) when Japan was still in it's self-inflicted isolation from the rest of the world. We have ignored this petty fact in favor of permitting a flannel kimono to exist. We apologize to all history proffessors we've caused to have a heart attack and die and then come back to ask, "What the hell are these girls doing on anyway, with such a rudimentary grasp upon the literary arts and grammar and history?" and then die again. Sorry.**


End file.
